“Sé que em mataran, però és l’únic lloc des d’on puc fer pública la meva protesta”, W.S.Owen, 1917.
Ho recordàvem ahir a Girona en la Trobada del Comitè de Traducció i Drets Lingüístics del Pen International, de la qual els mitjans ja s’han fet ressó. El 28 de juny d’ara fa cent anys esclatava una guerra com no se n’havia coneguda mai cap fins aleshores.
Mentre molts reaccionaven exaltant els vells valors decimonònics, Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) escrivia el seu colpidor poema antibel·licista “Dulce Et Decorum Est“, del qual vam fer una traducció al català ara fa uns mesos.
Menys coneguts són els versos d’“Emlé kezés egy nyár-éjszakára” [Record d’una nit d’estiu] on el gran poeta hongarès Endre Ady (1877-1919) gira la vista enrere i evoca l’esfereïdora imminència del conflicte bèl·lic aquella nit d’estiu de 1914. Ara podem gaudir-ne gràcies a l’excel·lent traducció a l’anglès que ens ha fet arribar Elizabeth Csicséry-Rónay, i que us invitem a llegir, abans de la versió en català que preparem.
Remembrance of a Summer Night
An angry angel beat the drum on high
Sounding the alarm on this sad Earth,
At least a hundred youths went mad
At least a hundred stars fell
At least a hundred veils were rent:
It was a strange,
Strange summer night.
Our old beehive burst into flame,
Our best colt broke his leg,
I dreamed the dead came back to life,
Our good dog, Brutus, went astray
Our good maid, Mary the mute,
Burst into loud song
On that strange,
Strange summer night,
The worthless swaggered like heroes
While true men lay low
And finicky robbers went out to rob
On that strange,
Strange summer night.
We knew that men were feeble
And bankrupt in love:
Even so, it was weird,
The living and dead on the turning wheel.
The Moon was never more mocking:
Never were men punier,
Than on that night:
That strange,
Strange summer night.
Dread bent over souls
With gleeful spite,
The hidden fate of forebears
In every man dwelt deep.
Drunken Thought, Man’s once proud lad,
Heading to that grim and bloody wedding feast,
Was now lame and nought:
On that strange,
Strange summer night,
I believed at that time, I thought
That some neglected God
Would come to life
And deliver me to death
And now, I live here,
Transfigured by that night,
Waiting for God, I remember
That world-destroying,
Dreadful night:
That strange,
Strange summer night.